Glitches
by Sam the ham luvr
Summary: Ralph isn't expecting much when Vanellope makes him take her to an all new arcade game for Christmas vacation. What happens when he meets another outcast, one with an important ability, and realizes that there is yet another evil force plotting to take full advantage of her? ONLY HAS Felix/Calhoun. SWEAR IT!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

"PLEASE?"

"No! Leave me alone!"

"PLEASE?"

Sighing, Ralph shook his head absently as he smacked himself in the face. His best buddy, Vanellope Von Schweetz, was clinging desperately onto his leg, despite his attempts to shake her off. She was trying to convince him to take her to the new arcade game the manager had recently installed for their vacation, since the arcade they lived in would be closed for two weeks. Her big, gooey chocolaty eyes pleaded silently. Her mouth quivered, and huge raindrop tears gathered in the corners of those giant, Bambi eyes. "Please?" her voice was barely a whisper, shaky and surprisingly quiet, which was unlike Vanellope. "Alright, fine! You got me! But one week only!" Ralph's enormous hands plucked Vanellope off his thigh the same way a chimpanzee would pick off a tick. "YAY!" she cheered, her fists swinging everywhere in excitement. All signs of depression seemed to have faded. Groaning, Ralph set her down gently. "So…when do we leave?" she was jumping up and down, a grin on her face, her bubbly, squeaky voice bright with glee. "Tomorrow, okay? Geez, give me a break!" the nine feet tall giant rolled his eyes. They were in Sugar Rush, Vanellope's game, a world made completely out of candy made entirely for racing. Vanellope was leaning back on her car, decorated with sprinkles, fudge, cookies, and other sugary sweets, and Ralph couldn't help but smile. "Well, I'd better get back to my game. It's almost daytime. The kids will be here any second." Vanellope pouted, her arms crossed, but she didn't object. Rubbing her tiny head with his huge finger, he stared into the portal behind him. Taking a deep breath, he waved to the tiny, nine year old child, and jumped in. Vanellope chewed on one of her hoodie's strings, tasting the sweet licorice. She plopped into her kart. She sped off, imagining one of her subjects racing beside her.

Ralph felt himself seeming to stretch and warp into the Game Central Station. He walked into the long hallway of games. The marble white walls were spotless. As he walked through the crowds, he chewed noisily on the piece of candy tree he had broken off. He finally stopped in front of his own game; called "Fix It Felix Jr." Ralph stared blankly at his own portal, the one he called home. He jumped inside, feeling his code being transported into his own game. When he opened his eyes, it was night, but streetlamps decorated the game. The Nicelanders, the civilians of the game, were just chilling in their apartments, and he found Felix helping Q*Bert, an orange creature with a long snout like an anteater, two legs, and no arms, with his new home off-screen. Ralph looked at his past home. Instead of a huge pile of bricks, which Ralph threw at Felix in the game, there was nothing but a couple of spare, lonely bricks. They had used most of the rubble to build houses for the homeless characters, and the rest were in Ralph's house. "Ralph! How are you doing?" Felix gestured for him to come over. Ralph reluctantly walked over. "I was just helping Q*Bert here with his house. He needed a little touch up. Oh well, no matter. I can fix it!" he tapped the house with his magic golden hammer, causing the house to stand up straight and not sag under the weight of the heavy roof. "Well, that's that, huh, Q*Bert?" he then made an assortment of odd chirps and squeaks, which was basically Q*Bert's language. After exchanging words, Q*Bert trotted back into his house.

"So…do you need help with anything? 'Cause if you do-" Ralph waved him off. "I know, I know." He made an impression of Felix. "I can fix it!" he barked, and Felix laughed. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow at work! Oh yeah..." his face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Tomorrow's the start of our vacation! What'll you be doing?" Ralph forced his tired muscles up into a smile. "Vanellope made me promise to take her to the new arcade game for a vacation." Felix wasn't listening. He was dreamily staring into space, a soft blush on his cheeks and a smile on his face. "I'm guessing you're going somewhere special with Sergeant Calhoun?" Ralph had made it a habit of calling Felix's wife "Sergeant Calhoun" instead of Tamora, her real name. Ever since he had entered a first person shooter game called Hero's Duty, a game in which Tamora starred in, it had been hard to shake off the image of her yelling at him while terrifying bugs swarmed around him, with full intent on killing him. "Oh, you mean Tammy?" he sighed, a full, blinding smile came into view. "Yeah, we were thinking of visiting the new puzzle game, you know, the one with no people in it? I think it's called Caribbean Puzzle. Well, anyhow, it's perfect for a romantic vacation, collecting seashells, relaxing on the beach. Ah…" he closed his eyes, obviously visualizing the perfect day with Tamora. His eyes snapped open. "Well, I hope you have fun with Vanellope!" and with that, he walked into the apartment, leaving Ralph standing there wondering how he would ever survive a full week with a rambunctious, wild nine year old from a hyperactive racing game.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"Yeah! We're going, we're going, we're going, we're going!" Vanellope began to glitch, disappearing, her code flashing for just a second, and ending up five feet in the air. Ralph was trying, unsuccessfully, to catch her. The two had packed for their big trip, and Ralph had changed into a new set of clothing (his first one had gotten mud splattered on it, just like they did every day) and he had gone the extra mile, packing some clean clothes, a toothbrush and a packet of toothpaste. Technically, all characters were programmed to have extra shiny teeth and always smell good, since nobody wants to play as somebody with rotten teeth and dirty hair (unless you were playing as a pirate, of course), but Ralph had wanted to be prepared, just in case. Felix had wished him well, and now the day had finally passed and it was time to leave.

His mind wandered back to just moments before, when he departed his game.

"Hey, Felix, you okay?" Felix had been pacing around the entrance of the portal to Hero's Duty, and even though he was five minutes late, he felt he should approach him and see what's wrong. Felix didn't respond. Ralph gently tapped Felix's shoulder, and his giant finger rubbed against his neck. Felix jumped six feet in the air.

"AHH!" he screamed. Quickly, regaining his cool, he sighed in relief. "Oh, Ralph, it's you!" his eyes were wide with surprise. "I'm sorry. I didn't see you there. I'm just waiting for Tammy." He was wearing something besides his repairman outfit, sporting a blinding white shirt and jeans. It was a surprisingly casual look for Felix, but he had his cap tucked in his back pocket, and his trusty golden hammer, just in case of an emergency. He reluctantly smiled.

"Are you okay?" Ralph asked.

"Of course I am!" he slapped his friend's back. "My dynamite gal is just a little busy, y'know, killing monstrous cy-bugs and stuff." It was kind of weird, hearing Felix act so normal, what with his wife shooting murderous robots for her occupation.

"You didn't see me walk in, did you?"

Felix spun around, and Ralph felt a jolt run down his spine. Sergeant Tamora Jean Calhoun was as intimidating as ever, but Felix didn't seem scared. Tamora was wearing her uniform, but she had a suitcase in her hand instead of a machine gun. She had a revolver cleverly concealed inside of a chink in her armor, though. Her short platinum blond hair was streaked with…blood. But either Felix didn't see any of that, or he didn't care. He gushed over his wife. "Tammy- I mean, Tamora, you're…wow, I mean-"

"Would you stop sputtering like that? We've got a vacation to attend to." The way her tone sounded, one would have assumed she was talking about a funeral and not a Christmas break. Ralph just nodded his head and said his goodbyes. Felix seemed a little out of it, but Sgt. Calhoun spoke for both of them. "Good luck with Vanellope, Wreck-It." He nodded, and took off; knowing that if he ran any slower the tiny teaser would kill him for being late.

By the time he was inside Sugar Rush, it was too late. Vanellope tapped her foot impatiently. Immediately, she scolded him. "And where were you, Stink Brain?" she snapped, upset that her guardian hadn't arrived any sooner. "I've been waiting here for about…" she tapped her chin. "Oh yeah! Seven minutes and twenty nine, thirty, thirty one, thirty two…well, whatever! The point is I've been waiting for you!"

"Well, I'm sorry, Princess Hissy Fit," that caused Vanellope to snarl in displeasure. "But I was saying goodbye to Felix and Tamora. Now, are you ready to leave?" Vanellope was back to her lovable, childish, fun-loving self in no time.

"Yep! I packed extra clothes, my toothbrush, and marshmallow paste, booger-head." She grinned, pointing to her suitcase, which Ralph hadn't noticed before. It was made of gingerbread, with a bright cherry red licorice handle. Ralph rolled his eyes.

"As if this planet doesn't have enough candy." He muttered. "And what do you need toothpaste for? You eat candy every day, and you still have teeth as bright as the sun, Miss Bobble Head." He turned to face Vanellope, and found she wasn't there. A much panicked Ralph looked around, and noticed the young racer high up in a candy tree, on her stomach, her tongue on a branch. "Hello, midget? Let's go!" Vanellope looked up. Realizing it was time to go, she frowned.

"Oh, okay." She tore off a piece of the tree. Closing her eyes, she glitched down to the ground effortlessly. "Well…" she chuckled weakly. "This is it." Ralph took a few steps, and then realized that Vanellope wasn't moving.

"Hey, are you okay?" for the first time, Ralph saw that Vanellope was frozen in place with fear.

"I-I'm fine." She wasn't moving. She was shaking. "It's just..." she paused, her voice now as shaky as she was. "W-What if…it doesn't work? What if I'm still a glitch? What if-" there were tears in her eyes, real tears. "What if I can't get out?" It was the question everybody wanted answered. Ever since she had become the president, Vanellope hadn't stepped foot outside of her game. "I mean, I still glitch out sometimes." She was on the verge of tears.

"Vanellope." Ralph placed a soft hand on her shoulder. "You'll be okay. Sour Bill said that you still glitch because you _were_ a glitch for so long that it became a permanent part of your program, whether or not you're still a glitch. You'll be fine." She nodded, her face white with fear.

"Okay." A confident smile was forced on her lips. "Yeah, I'll do it." She started to walk.

"Come on, you can do it." He encouraged gently. Vanellope was still walking, and soon she was directly in front of the gate, taking deep breaths. Ralph was trailing behind her. "Come on. Just one tiny step." He said. "It's the moment of truth." Vanellope stepped forward. Ralph held his breath, and his face turned as red as the cherries he loved to eat. Nothing happened. She moved her body through what used to be the barrier separating her from Game Central Station. She gasped. She made it. Ralph was grinning knowingly, and watched her jump around.

"I did it! I did it! I finally did it! I'm free." She jumped up and hugged Ralph. Her candy tree branch was on the ground, forgotten. Ralph laughed as she turned to face him, a huge smile on her face. "I did it." Her voice was at a whisper, as if she still couldn't believe it.

"You did it." He smiled, feeling compassion for the little sister he never had, and never wanted, for that matter.

It had never felt so good to hug her back.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Ralph wiped his brow, panting heavily. Who would've thought that taking care of a child could be so frustrating?

Vanellope, as fun as she may be, was exhausting to take care of. She had glitched around excitedly, squealing and yelling in delight every time she saw something new. Ralph had spent the last thirty minutes, maybe, taking her to Tappers to cool down, but, without thinking, he had offered her Red Bull, which was a larger-than-life mistake and had made things ten times worse, causing her to jump around the walls from sugar buzz. Luckily, she was used to a lot of sugar, what with being from the game SUGAR rush, and she had calmed down momentarily. Now, Ralph only hoped that she was good, at least until they were in the new arcade game and she had open, empty space to run around in.

"Whoa, wow, that's sooooo cool!" Vanellope squeaked like a mouse, glancing around, in awe of the amazing structure. "I can't believe this place was right outside Sugar Rush the whole time, right under my very nose!" she said, her eyes sparkling. Eventually she tired of the same, bland marble walls. "Are we there yet?" Vanellope blinked innocently.

Ralph growled. "No." Vanellope sighed. She was walking beside him in the Game Central Station.

Vanellope was fiddling with her hoodie. After a short pause, she piped up again. "Okay, now are we there?" Ralph let out a whimper, as if he was being tortured, which, in a way, he was. He massaged his temples, looking above the many portals, lined up orderly, to see the names of their games. He looked at the child momentarily.

"What is this game called again?" he asked.

"It's called- hey, I found it!"

Ralph stared in the direction Vanellope was pointing in. Indeed, there was an entrance to a game, one Ralph had never seen before. "Champ Fighters? That's the name of the game?" Ralph felt that it wouldn't be good to go into a game where excruciating violence was encouraged, especially with a tiny, nine year old kid with him. Ralph felt a tiny seed of doubt planted into his mind, but he pushed it aside. "Well, here we go." He said, grasping Vanellope's hand until she yelped in pain. Ralph immediately felt guilty. The racer's hand was bright red, and she massaged it gently.

"It's okay. I'm okay." She wheezed, wincing as she spread her fingers out and squeezed them into a fist. "Well, we're here." a huge smile was plastered on her face. "Let's go!" Ralph could hardly believe that this was the same girl who had been close to tears just an hour ago. "Well, what are you waiting for, you hobo? Come on!" Ralph hadn't realized that Vanellope was right at the entrance, preparing to step in.

"Okay, I'm coming, I'm coming." Ralph managed, trying to catch his breath. He walked over to her, and she linked hands with him, and he smiled, feeling warmth spread through his body. Taking a deep breath, preparing himself for anything, he stepped forward, his best friend's hand still in his.

"Whoa…" Vanellope's mouth was wide open, her arms flailing around, trying to show Ralph how big it was. "Stink brain, look at this!"

The place was huge. There were grassy fields as far as the eye could see, with the occasional rolling hill off in the distance. Each blade of grass was a slightly different shade of green, depending on the size or the amount of sunlight there was. It was truly beautiful. The sky was bright and cheery, a bright robin's egg blue. It was littered with puffy clouds. It was like the art designers had used every single pastel color they could think of and fit it into the scenery. "Wow! Cotton candy!" Vanellope exclaimed. Ralph was confused for a second, and then he remembered: in Vanellope's game, the world was made out of candy. He chuckled to himself.

"Hey. Butterweed," he couldn't think of anything else to call her. "It's called a cloud. Not all of those puffy pillow-like things in the sky are made out of cotton candy." Vanellope looked stumped, as if this was news for her, and she shrugged. She was pointing to a grey square not too far away, which was pretty noticeable. There were the sounds of cheering crowds, and it looked like a boxing ring, with two competitors fighting it out. Ralph's smile turned into a confused frown. "Um…" he didn't speak. Vanellope rolled her eyes.

"Hey, diaper head." She mocked him. "It's called Champ Fighters for a reason. They're dueling. The winner goes up in the championship." Ralph nodded, but his mind was still blank. The tiny child shook her head with her eyes closed. "You still don't get it, do you?" he shook his head. "Well, we might as well go up there. Come on."

Ralph felt kind of awkward, following the girl, but he allowed it nonetheless. He felt like the bulky, clumsy, and not to mention stupid henchman, while Vanellope was the evil plotting genius. She glitched up onto a guy's shoulder, which should have freaked the guy out, but instead he merely turned his head and smiled, his teeth impossibly white. He looked normal enough, with mousy brown hair that looked like he had washed it with oil, and golden eyes. "Why, hello there. Are you here to enter the competition?" the voice was smooth and oily, very deep, like a finely tuned cello.

"Um, no, we're just here to watch. Do you have any rooms in which we could stay in, maybe?" Ralph's statement felt even more stupid, and all of a sudden he felt kind of self-conscious about himself. He shook it away from his mind. He couldn't afford to be criticizing himself. "Well, in fact, I think we do." Grinning again, he leaned uncomfortably closer. "Are you sure you don't want to enter the championship. You look fairly strong yourself. I doubt anybody in this tournament could stand up to your strength." His breath reeked of coffee. Ralph coughed uncontrollably and shook his head, knowing that the man was just trying to persuade him to join by using flattery. "No thanks." He said when he stopped coughing and the man had stepped back, giving him fresh air that did not smell of coffee beans. Personally, he never did like the bitter and thin liquid, even when the Nicelanders had offered it to him. Actually, the first time he had ever tried it, he had mistaken it for hot chocolate and gulped half of it down before spraying it across Gene's nice linoleum floor. Besides, Ralph had been reminded that if a character died outside of his or her game, they wouldn't come back. Ralph didn't trust himself to win, and he didn't want to die in a tournament, of all things!

The man smiled. "Okay, but I'll warn you. The prize is well worth it."

Ralph's curiosity was piqued. But before a word had escaped his lips, Vanellope had spoken for him. "What prize?" she asked, her hands on her hips, glaring suspiciously at him.

"Why, my sweet darling, what a marvelous question." And with that, he grabbed a rope hanging, not quite touching the ground. For the first time, Ralph noticed that behind him, there was something covered in a fancy black veil. It looked like a glass case. The man jerked it to the floor, and, as if on cue, the veil lifted.

Ralph could hardly believe his eyes. Vanellope was too stunned to speak. "What…how…" the words dribbled out of his mouth.

"You can't do this…this is wrong!" Vanellope's voice, however, was lost in the cheers and screams of the crowd.

Inside the glass container, there was a small girl, trapped, her hands clenched in fists, banging against the glass. She was yelling for help, but no sound was heard. The glass was absorbing her voice. She was taller than Vanellope but shorter than Felix, which was still pretty short. She was pretty, with her very dark mocha hair in pigtails that flowed down her back, her grey eyes wide with alarm. She glitched for just a second, but it was unlike anything Ralph had ever seen. It seemed to hurt her, her blue code streaming up her arms, shocking her in blue electricity. She fell to her knees, shaking, her eyes squeezed shut.

The crowd was cheering wildly, like lunatics, unaware that the girl was in pain.

"May I present," the man's silky voice, one Ralph now hated, boomed louder than the rest. "Kathleen Monique Aria, the one and only!"

The crowd cheered. Ralph stood, paralyzed with shock, lightheaded and dizzy.

The girl collapsed, her world fading to black. Everything disappeared, but one thing remained: the haunting look on a giant man's face, before a curtain was drawn, trapping her mind, and she was knocked out.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Ralph was silent today. He nibbled on a cherry.

Vanellope griped, mumbling to herself. The tension in the room was so thick you could've cut it with a knife. The room they were staying in was bland, with nothing out of place. It was a wooden cabin, but he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. She was eating her favorite delicacy, a moist, mouthwatering chocolate cake with fudge gushing inside. Strangely, however, she was picking at it, not bothering to take a bite. Ralph understood. It was hard to eat when your stomach was knot into a tight ball of fury.

Finally, she spoke.

"It isn't fair!" her voice was loud and commanding, not in the mood for fun and games. "I mean, she looks the same age as me! They can't do this! It's illegal! We have to do something, Ralph!" she was begging him to speak up, to tell her she was right, to pat her on the back and listen to her complain, just like all those other times.

But Ralph was busy thinking. His mind kept coming back to the man with the unexplainably greasy hair, and his smooth and calm voice. Ralph wanted to punch him with his incredibly large fist, and that had to hurt. But he found himself defending him. "We can't do anything." Vanellope surged forward, agitated, but Ralph spoke over her. "There's nothing saying that slaves aren't illegal. We can't do anything." He had a ball of hopelessness in his stomach.

Vanellope was yelling now. "We have to do something! Ralph, we have to help her!" she stared at him defiantly. "I'm going to rescue her. I'm going to do it. Just because you're too chicken doesn't mean I'll quit!" she screamed in his face. She calmed down, her fire extinguishing at once. "Ralph," she pleaded. "Can we at least see her and talk to her? Please. We need to do something." Her voice was calmer and gentler now, but just as desperate. Ralph stared at her eyes, big and soft. Sighing, he shrugged.

"Okay, but one talk, okay?" he pointed a finger at her "One talk, and after that we'll see." Vanellope flashed her pearly whites.

"You have yourself a deal! Oh, Ralph, we'll do great!"

Ralph tried to go to bed, but his mind wouldn't stop thinking. He kept seeing that girl's cry for help, lost in the people's cheers of joy. It must've felt betraying when the people there cried out with glee as you fell, your consciousness slipping. Ralph tried to fluff his pillow by hitting it a few times, but he broke it on accident, sending an array of feathers into the air. He found the more he tried to sleep the more it evaded him. Soon he couldn't stand still. He was pacing around his dorm, which felt more like prison. He felt terror-stricken, fear flowing through his veins. He wondered what had happened to the girl. Why, when she glitched, did it hurt her? He had never heard of anything like that ever happening before in the arcade. Then again, he hadn't known glitches existed until he met Vanellope. Groaning from annoyance, he dropped like a rock, feeling himself slip through the cracks of sleep.

He was asleep before he hit the ground.

The next morning, Vanellope was waiting for him. "Stink brain." She acknowledged him. "Today's the day we speak to glitch-girl." she said. She wasn't happy, but she seemed well-rested and ready. Plucking a cherry from the fridge, he actually ate the whole thing, mainly because he was starving, having not eaten anything yesterday. Vanellope had leftover cake, too, letting the now cold melted chocolate slide down her throat. Ralph found himself changed into clothes soon after. He stared down at himself. Had he changed and taken a shower? He felt refreshed, but he couldn't remember it. The memories were blurred up. Vanellope's mouth was moving, but he couldn't hear the words. Unsure of what to do, he blankly followed her.

When they arrived at the stadium, the man wasn't there, thankfully, or else Ralph would've beaten him to a pulp. He stared at the rope as if it had teeth, dangling harmlessly in the air. Vanellope jumped up and grabbed it; her feet not anywhere near the ground. Her arms and legs were wrapped around it like a vice. "Um, Ralph? Little help?" the place was empty, so Ralph took one hand and pulled it downward, shaking the girl off and tumbling onto the floor. The black veil, to Ralph's horror, lifted, and he didn't think he could bear seeing the little girl again. She was there alright. Her eyes were closed, and her legs pulled up close to her chest. She didn't seem to notice them. "What do you want?" her voice was nice and melodic, soft and high like a bird.

"Hi there. What's your name?" Vanellope was right on the ball.

"None of your business." Very polite, this girl was.

"Hey, she reminds me of someone." Ralph muttered, and she scowled. Again, Vanellope tried to create a conversation.

"How are you?"

"Who needs to know?"

"Hey, girl!" Ralph finally snapped. "Who are you?"

She looked up. That face… "Who do you think?" she asked. After a short pause though, she added, "I'm Kathleen Monique Aria."

"Well, Kathleen." Vanellope piped up, eager as ever. "We're here to save you!"

"Excuse me?" she snapped. "I don't need saving. I'm…not like you."

"WE know!" just to prove her point, she glitched for a second. Kathleen's eyes widened.

"You…but how…" then she jumped up, clearly alarmed.

Before he could ask but was wrong, though, another voice, smooth and oily, spoke.

"Well, what do we have here?"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Ralph's first reaction was nothing. A blank face, maybe. His jaw hit the floor.

He realized how stupid his plan was. He had gone into the stadium without once considering they may have security cameras, and had spoken to an imprisoned girl. How bad could you get? "I can explain-" Ralph stammered, but he was cut off.

"WHAT do you want!?" Ralph felt fear strike his heart at the fearsome voice, but it was only Kathleen, the young girl trapped inside the cylinder glass tube. "Leave them alone!" to be honest, Kathleen didn't know why she was defending people she barely knew, but she was. Something about that man…she couldn't shake it. It was as if he reminded her of somebody…someone from her past.

"Well, my darling Kathleen…you wouldn't want to get hurt again, would you?"

Well, this is it, thought Kathleen. He's finally done it. He's black-mailing me. But her mouth wouldn't respond to her brain (that tended to happen a lot). "Hey, guess what, stupid?" that was the best nickname she could come up with. "I don't care! Go on and try it!"

And then, with the snap of a finger, her blood turned to ice and her lungs burned like fire. It felt like sharp vines were wrapping themselves around her and impaling her skinny arms and legs, and they were constricting her throat. She couldn't breathe, her face pale from lack of oxygen, and she felt liquid lead fill her veins, and they weighed her down. Her code randomly fizzed everywhere, sending jolts up and down her spine. Her head smashed against the glass, but she was completely numb. Her joints ached and her arms stung like a nest of bees. And then…the pain lifted. She was better. Not to mention alive. But, secretly, deep inside, she knew that she was already dead. She had died the instant he had first found her…when he tied her life to his. Pushing the thought aside, too afraid to think about it, she turned to Bigfoot Caveman and the candy midget (her personal nicknames for the duo).

The Caveman was at the grease-guy's throat, his incredibly large fists squeezing his thin neck. If he applied any more pressure, the man's neck would surely snap like a toothpick. She felt her burden lessen, and she willed him to kill him and be done with it. But, quickly and nimbly, he slipped out of his grasp and got the candy midget in a headlock. "No!" his enormous voice boomed out, but grease-guy was too quick for him. Midget was turning blue.

"Touch me and she dies."

It was hopeless. Ralph lowered his head. "Okay, okay, just…please, let her go." He had admitted defeat. Releasing his grip slightly but not completely on Vanellope, she gasped for breath, coughing and hacking for clean air. Ralph thought it would be so easy, to run at him and tackle into his skinny little body, killing him under his weight, but whatever he had done to the girl, well, he might be able to do that to Vanellope, and he couldn't risk it. Still, it would be simple. He weighed his options. Finally, he released her.

"Very well. But I suggest you escape with your chances and not mettle with things outside your control." And with that, he turned tail and left, smiling smugly to himself.

"Why…that little snitch…I'm going to-"

"Hey relax Stink brain. I'm fine, aren't I?"

And, just like that, Caveman, or, apparently, Stink brain, calmed down. It was amazing, almost funny, seeing the tiny girl calm the monstrous man down. "Yeah…you're right. Okay, thanks Vanellope." The girl spread her mouth apart into a cheeky smile.

"So…glitch-girl…" Vanellope turned to Kathleen. "We'll get you out of here, don't you worry! But, before we leave, might I ask…what's your story?"

She shrugged. "You tell me. I don't know…but…" it was too painful to put into words. "He found me in the woods, and…did something, I don't know what. He linked me to him, but…I feel like I'm already dead inside. It's like I can still feel, but the emotions are kind of…blotted out or numbed." She stopped.

"I don't get it."

Rolling her eyes, she resisted the urge to say that she didn't get much of anything. Bigfoot placed a gentle hand on Vanellope's shoulder. "Come on, Princess." He mocked. He faced her, giving her irresistible chills. "We'll be back for you." It was reassuring, and, for the first time ever, she realized how scared she'd been, how desperate she wanted some kind of human interaction. Everybody else had treated her as nothing more than a mistake, an outcast. It hadn't been much to put two and two together, and when she had, it had been too much. She'd blocked out everything, everything. She closed her eyes.

"Good luck." She tried to sound like she didn't care, but it still felt like she was being betrayed, like they were leaving her and never coming back. But she felt that she could survive one more night.

They turned away and walked off a bit, but the girl spun around and ran up to the glass, placing her dirty hands on the glass. Kathleen put her hand on the girl's, even though they weren't touching, separated by the glass. "Bye!" Midget exclaimed.

And for the first time that day, Kathleen smiled, her tears extinguishing and her face lighting up.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi there Fanfiction lovers!**

**So I'm making a new Author's Note, since I realized that the old one wasn't really...me.**

**So my name is Samantha, I do not own Wreck-It Ralph, and I just wanted to let you guys know that I am GOING TO CHANGE MY PEN NAME TO...EpicDuet**

**This is actually important, so if you're a fan then please understand that I am changing my name to EpicDuet.**

**Ok? Bye**

* * *

Chapter Six

Deep inside, Mr. Alfred Bumble was furious. He stewed deep underneath his charming smile and pointed nose. He wasn't exactly the most handsome fellow in the arena, but he had power, and that was what really mattered.

When one saw Mr. Bumble, they saw a pointy noise like a witch's, and greasy hair that was matted down and stringy, the color of rotten olives. His smile was crooked and sinister, one that would've suited a Mafia gang member quite well, and thin eyebrows that were barely visible. He was wearing a vertically striped black and white t-shirt, being the referee, and regular track pants with untied shoes. His hands were gnarled and long, thin like a twig, and designed for snatching money out of foolish gamblers' hands. His eyes were a repulsive muddy brown, plain, yet they carried a glint of greed and cunning. Mr. Bumble was a sly, sly man, and he, without a doubt, would sacrifice every man, woman, and child in this game for his own cause. This all fit Alfred to a T, and even now his fingers danced on his shirt, fumbling with it and smoothing out his shirt, caked with mud and grime from a day's work. He cursed at himself. The tiny girl, the over-excited one, and the ginormous man, they were definitely trouble. But he could never compare to the man's strength and the girl's ability to soothe his spirit, and he needed strength in order for his plan…he needed that man on his side.

Now, Mr. Bumble wasn't strong, but he was sly and intelligent, with beady birdlike eyes that calculated an opponent's every move. He had gotten this power from studying his foe's moves and strategy before using everyday items to his advantage. He had defeated every single member of this league using his wits. And even now his mind wandered far away, thinking to the man. Surely, he was strong, but he was too brash and stubborn. His mind worked like a child. It would be so easy to lure him onto his side, at his service. He licked his lips in anticipation. The midget was of great value to the man, that was for certain. And he would, without a doubt, follow her lead. She'd either have to be convinced to join him, or be subdued. Smiling, showing his yellowish teeth, he plotted everything into place until it seemed foolproof. The other girl…Kathleen, _the hack_, she was the key to all of this. Ever since the game had been hacked, and she had been input into the game's system, he had tried to exterminate her, but, after a while, had realized just how precious she could be. He thought back to the day he had trapped her.

Kathleen was running, bolting through the dark and moody woods towards a clearing, filled with rays of sunlight. Vines draped from trees scraped and clung to her arms, and they stung like a nest of bees. Sharp rocks and stones cut her bare feet, leaving a slow trail of blood behind her. Her lungs burned like fire and struggled for air, gasping for breath. Her hair was streaked with not only mud, but a lot of blood as well. She stumbled over a particularly large boulder and raced past the bleary trees. Behind her, he was coming. Mr. Bumble, otherwise known as the grease-guy (Kathleen's original nickname), was stalking her. He was slow but steady, and he wasn't clumsy at all, unlike her. She had only been here for two weeks, and already she was being hunted down. She hadn't heard much, a few words about a "rotten glitch that had crawled into their game" or "a hack that shouldn't be here." It felt terrible, but the worst was the glitching. Buzzes of mild static crawled into her system, and tried to exterminate her. As far as she could tell, the game was trying to get rid of her by cracking into her code and pulling her strings. Her joints were tight and sore and she rested temporarily on a tree, leaning on it. Then, a hand was pulled over her mouth, and she couldn't get the bitter, sour taste of his hand out of her mouth. Instinctively, she bit him, and as Mr. Bumble howled in pain she took off, pacing herself and not daring to look back for fear of being paralyzed with hopelessness. Then, it happened. A small sort of current ran through her. It felt like she was vibrating on and off, and then it was replaced with pain, a stinging sort that throbbed, as if she'd been stung a million times by jellyfish. Falling down on her stomach, she groaned. A rough hand dragged her up, and his hand rose up and he hit her. He wasn't very strong, but it still hurt, since her body was vulnerable and raw. She felt exposed after that terrifying shock.

"You wouldn't want to get hurt, my little birdie, would you?" the voice was heavily accented, and he hissed the s and put emphasis on the h. He grinned, a disgusting sight, and she tried to pull away, but he kicked her back down again, his hand gripping her hair and making her face him. "No, no, my sweet, you'll be fine. I'll take good care of you. You have more potential than you realize, dear." And then, adrenaline surged through her body. Her senses went into overdrive. She could spot a village with laughing children and busy housewives. She could hear the sound of a woman humming as she hung up the laundry to dry. She could taste the bacteria in her mouth, and that wasn't pleasant, but she tuned it out as she smelled freshly baked bread and the rich, earthy soil. She could feel the air splash against her skin, the rough fabric of her long, hemp dress that went down to her ankles, and the thin hands that eagerly held her hair. She gasped and let the senses escape her.

"You see, dear. You have much to learn, though." And with that, he pushed her into something that had been hidden in the shadows. It was a glass tube, and she kicked it but it wouldn't budge. "It won't work. It's very strong. Beside, shattered glass might kill you, and we don't want that, do we?" Then he explained. "My dear, you're not normal. You're the opposite of normal. You are a delicacy, something so rare I believe the arcade hasn't had anything like you for more than fifty years! You, darling, are a hack. A mistake. Something that is so out of place that even the game is trying to destroy you. An expert hacker has hacked this game and inserted you in it. The game designers obviously tried to plant a bug that would eliminate you, but it only partially worked. You are one in a million. You are a rare treasure." He chuckled. He might as well have stuck forks in her ears, because she was close to tears.

"I'm not a hack!" but it was hopeless. Her voice was raw and soft, undetermined.

"Yes, exactly." That threw Kathleen off, until her corrected her. "You are _my _hack."

Kathleen's eyes snapped open. She was half sitting half standing in her little cage. She had fallen asleep. She tried not to sleep, ever since she had realized what she saw, but it was no use. Sooner or later she would die of exhaustion. It was scary, but she figured that she would have time to think about it later. Soon the winner of the championship would take her as a prize, whether as a slave or a prisoner or even someone who they could torture in their free time. Her code felt wrong, chipped and worn, and she realized she may not have much time left before the game finally tracks her down and kills her code permanently. She hoped that she'd be safe in her cozy home. The last thing she wanted was to be caught completely off guard, and die while still in shock. Then she finally realized how dark the place was. She usually woke up to the sound of the cheers, but now…silence. Nothing except the occasional chirp of a cricket. Then if it wasn't morning, then how…

A rough, recognizable voice erupted and disturbed the tranquility, "Hey, girl."

She immediately spoke. "Caveman?" her slapped a hand to her mouth, but the Caveman had turned to her.

"Excuse me?" There was a pause, probably Caveman adjusting to this new nickname, but he resumed. Kathleen guessed he was used to being teased. "Well, come on. I'm not going to stay here all day waiting for you to get out. Just promise me one thing."

"And what is that?" it was hard to miss the tone of irritation.

"When we get out of here, you've got a whole bunch of explaining to do."


	7. Chapter 7

**Hi again.**

**I'm sorry that it's been taking me a while to update these stories, but I've been busy with school and all, so it's hard to work like this every night. **

**I also wanted to say I'm shocked by how many of you enjoyed this story so far. I just wanted to show my story to the world, but I never expected it to be popular.**

**Thanks to all of you who have favorited and added me to your story subscription list!**

* * *

Chapter Seven

Ralph admitted that he hadn't planned on going all "Mission Impossible." That had been Vanellope's idea.

"It'll be perfect! We'll sneak in, all spy-like, and get her out of the glass tube and whatnot, and then…presto! We escape. She's free to do whatever." Vanellope jumped around. She had been moody and silent all day, just drawing diagrams on how to get the glitch-girl out, and finally she cracked by the time she had downed her third cup of cola. "It'll be easy. Simple and efficient."

Ralph rolled his eyes. "What about her? She's obviously a glitch. How are we going to guarantee that she'll be safe from Mister What's-his-face?"

She tapped her chin in thought. "I know! Um…give me a second here."

"You see? We've got no plan." Ralph shot at her, and he knew he had her stumped. She mumbled to herself and groaned.

"Well, maybe you've got a plan, genius!?" she was obviously not in the mood for fun and games.

"Well, maybe I could just enter the championship and win, how about that!" he was greeted with stunned silence. That was the question everybody wanted answered. Vanellope looked hurt. She crossed her arms.

"You're not actually considering it, are you?" her voice was soft. "Because we're…we are _not_ negotiating with that scumbag!" she yelled, her voice echoing around the tiny cabin.

"It's better than going with Operation Blackout!" he screamed, his voice stretching throughout the house.

"Then…I have another plan, but…it's Plan B. We either go with my plan, or we go with Plan B. And I think you're going to hate Plan B." she sounded determined and serious, but her voice wobbled a bit, nothing like the happy-go-lucky racer she usually was.

"What's Plan B? I'd like to hear it before I decide."

"If we go through with Plan B, I probably won't make it out alive."

Nothing happened for a few seconds. Ralph wondered what it was that Vanellope was so angry about, and then he realized that she was reminded of her own days, when she was treated like the outcast, like the mistake. It must've hurt, seeing and knowing how it felt to be teased and ridiculed because of who you were. He stopped grumbling and gave a disappointed sigh. "Fine. Let's go with your idea. But you definitely owe me!"

She smiled gratefully. "You got yourself a deal, Stink Brain."

He groaned. He didn't know much (video game characters didn't get a good education.), but he knew one thing: he was _so _not getting his money's worth.

That was two hours ago. Now, it wasn't looking so good.

"Come on, girl, what's holding you up?"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" she snapped. "But, um…do you think you could bust me out of here." she knocked on the glass, but her knuckles didn't make a sound. Somehow, she was able to talk through it, but was unable to break the glass container.

He mumbled something, and then flexed his fists and smashed the cage wide open. The sharp pieces toppled onto the floor. Kathleen smiled. "That took care of that!" she grinned, proud and finally free, and she jumped out. Ralph grabbed her in midair.

"Are you crazy? You're going to end up with glass in your feet!" he motioned to her bare feet, and the glass scattered throughout the stadium. Her mouth went into a perfect O.

"Okay then." She let herself go limp as Ralph carried her around. He was careful not to pierce himself. Her stormy grey eyes seemed to see right through him, and they had this fierce look that was kind, yet dangerous, as if he was trying to cut a single wire on a pipe bomb: one wrong move, and SPLAT. Wreck-it Ralph pancake. This continued for a while, with himself tip-toeing and placing his feet in the spaces between the randomly placed glass. He had not thought this through, he realized with a sickening feel in his stomach. He doubted anyone in this game would be able to even slightly crack this glass, and that made him the prime suspect. Then, suddenly, Kathleen went rigid and her code was exposed, and this time is shone a dark crimson, the color of blood, not like Vanellope's sky blue code. She glitched through Ralph's hands and down towards the floor.

Where hundreds of sharp pieces of glass, just waiting to hurt her, sat.

Ralph's hand shot at her but he knew he was too late. She stared at him, an agonized glare, and…

SNAP!

She bounced up as if she was attached safely to a bungee cord. Mr. Grease was holding her by the scruff of her shirt. Her arms struggled wildly, trying to harm him, and her legs were swinging like a feral animal. "Let. Me. GO!" she screamed, and just for a second, all the crickets stopped chirping. The grass seemed not as green, and the dark night was scary. It was ominous and threatening.

"Let her go!" this time, the voice didn't belong to Kathleen, but it might as well have. Vanellope was yelling now, positioned on the top of the now-deceased cage, the one that had once trapped Kathleen. She crossed her arms, and she tried to look big and mean. "What did she ever do to deserve this? You have to let her go!"

His repulsiveness spoke. "You wouldn't want anything to do with her, if you really knew what she was." He was hissing now, and Ralph realized it was actually laughter.

"Please, no." her eyes shone with tears, and Kathleen sounded afraid.

"She's a hack, nothing more than a mistake. Someone had input her into the game's code, and even the game designers tried to get rid of her." But Ralph saw his eyes were red with fire, and they burned with the desire to murder. Ralph knew there was something more. "She is not meant to be here. She'll die eventually. The game will finally track her down and eliminate her. But, what can you really say? She's nothing but a stupid, insignificant…"

Vanellope lost it. She tried to jump after him, but Kathleen was just shivering in his scaly hands, pained and obviously not in the mood for a battle. She was submitting to him, giving up. This was nothing like Kathleen. "YOU STOP!" she said, tears streaming down her face now. "You stop that! I know that she may not be meant to be here, but this is enough!"

"I don't think you understand!" the man's voice was just as gruesome, but it carried a hint of envy and pure, raw, hatred. "She took it all away from me! All of it! They said that I wasn't good enough for them, they said it! And they wanted to just keep her! But they'll never understand what it's like. They'll never know what it's like to be the one everyone admired, the one people were dying to unlock, and then just be replaced! They don't know what it's like to become the outcast, the one who isn't going to be playable! They don't!" he stopped himself, but Ralph had heard enough.

Unless his ears were deceiving him, Grease here had just revealed something incredible.

Kathleen wasn't a glitch. She was meant to be here.

_He was the glitch._


End file.
